For as long as I can remember, my father saved. He saves money, he saves disfigured sticks that resemble disfigured celebrities, and most of all, he saves food. Cherry tomatoes, sausage biscuits, the olives plucked from other people's martinis --he hides these things in strange places until they are rotten. And then he eats them.
Quotes about olives (15 Quotes)
Ah, Caviar I keep on eating it, but can never get my fill. Like olives. It's a lucky thing it's not salty.
Let peace, descending from her native heaven, bid her olives spring amidst the joyful nations; and plenty, in league with commerce, scatter blessings from her copious hand!
They can do without architecture who have no olives nor wines in the cellar.
We like the organic market and the organic market for olives at the present time has given us a great opportunity.
If it wasn't for the olives in his martinis, he'd starve to death
(Shoes are) not that high. The shoes are in a matte metal nylon, old gold mesh with black rubber heels, like little squares or olives.
Winter Song The browns, the olives, and the yellows died, And were swept up to heaven where they glowed Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide, And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed, Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed. From off your face, into the winds of winter, The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter, When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing, And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going.
A hymn of glory let us sing New songs throughout the world shall ring Christ, by a road before untrod, Now rises to the throne of God. The holy apostolic band Upon the Mount of Olives stand And with his followers they see Their Lord's ascending majesty. To them the angels drawing nigh, 'Why stand and gaze upon the sky This is the Savior,' thus they say 'This is his glorious triumph day. 'Again shall ye behold him so As ye today have seen him go, In glorious pomp ascending high, Up to the portals of the sky.' O risen Christ, ascended Lord, All praise to thee let earth accord, Who art, while endless ages run, With Father and with Spirit one.
And He it is Who sends down water from the cloud, then We bring forth with it buds of all (plants), then We bring forth from it green (foliage) from which We produce grain piled up (in the ear) and of the palm-tree, of the sheaths of it, come forth clusters (of dates) within reach, and gardens of grapes and olives and pomegranates, alike and unlike behold the fruit of it when it yields the fruit and the ripening of it most surely there are signs in this for a people who believe.
The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,
And the sad augurs mock their own presage;
Incertainties now crown themselves assured,
And peace proclaims olives of endless age.
If olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil come from.
Close to the Gates a spacious Garden lies, From the Storms defended and inclement Skies Four Acres was the allotted Space of Ground, Fenc'd with a green Enclosure all around. Tall thriving Trees confessed the fruitful Mold The reddening Apple ripens here to Gold, Here the blue Fig with luscious Juice overflows, With deeper Red the full Pomegranate glows, The Branch here bends beneath the weighty Pear, And verdant Olives flourish round the Year.
And as he sat upon the mount of Olives, the disciples came unto him privately, saying, Tell us, when shall these things be and what shall be the sign of thy coming, and of the end of the world And Jesus answered and said unto them, Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ and shall deceive many. And ye shall hear of wars and rumours of wars see that ye be not troubled for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet. For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows. Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you and ye shall be hated of all nations for my names sake.
From these cities they would go on again, by the roads of vines and olives, through squalid villages, where there was not a hovel without a gap in its filthy walls, not a window with a whole inch of glass or paper where there seemed to be nothing to support life, nothing to eat, nothing to make, nothing to grow, nothing to hope, nothing to do but die.